Hopeless
by AKADropsofJupiter
Summary: A horrid birthday leads Helga into some angsty thoughts. When Arnold arrives to save her, the tables turn and she tries to save him. (god that sucked...)


Yes, it's that time again. Ready to hear my version of the ever-witty Disclaimer? You know, the place where I tell you that I own nothing, go on to put a semi-new and creative twist on it, and then add some hateful comment about what Nick does to Hey Arnold!? Fine. I own nothing, except for the Special K I'm eating at the moment. It's hard to eat cereal and type, but I manage. HA! belongs to the executives at Nick, the deleted expletives. Is anyone else so sick and tired of HA! getting crapped on by Nick? It's all about Rugrats and Spongebob, blah blah blah. Spongebob I can deal with ("I... don't... know, Mr. Crabs. I don't... know." lol), but Rugrats is the devil's child. That show's gone *downhill* since the new episodes, tsk tsk tsk. This isn't the most realistic fic ever, but I don't think I messed up too badly on it. Review if you feel like it, and enjoy the fic.

Also, I don't think I'll ever write a sequel to "Of Gas Stations and Constellations," unless someone can give me a really good idea for one... *hint* Points if you catch the Buffy, the Vampire Slayer reference in this fic.

(BTW, the first little blurb-scene is a dream sequence. Just to let you know. I didn't want to scare you off, it's pretty trippy.)

  
  


False Hope

  
  


As he came towards her from across the playground, Arnold's eyes shone with a strange brilliance that Helga had never seen in them before. This new light seemed almost to be alive, and it was amazingly tender. As she looked at him, Helga realized that she had seen it before, though never directed at her. It was the way he looked when he was staring at Lila, the little wench, or the way he used to look at Ruth P. McDougall, the sixth-grade snob. And now- and her heart danced and leaped with joy at this- he was looking at her that way. 

"I've been waiting to tell you for so long," he said, his voice deep and passionate.

"Tell me what?" she asked, and her tone didn't have its usual harsh sound, but was instead level, adult, and very, very enticing. 

At that moment, Lila came running over from the monkey bars, pigtails flapping. "Arnold, I've decided that I like you-like you!" 

He turned on her, scorn evident in his gaze. "You're too late, Lila. I've given my heart to another. Why don't you get out of here, you selfish little brat? I don't know what I was ever thinking." Lila ran off, hands plastered to her face and sobbing hysterically. "So," he said, turning back to her, "where were we?"

Helga held back on laughing with delight, but it was a close thing. "You were going to tell me something?"

"Ah yes. Helga, I adore you. I've loved you from afar for many years now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." She noticed how he kept such a cool face, but was actually incredibly nervous. It was the eyes; they betrayed his true nature to her. They always did. "Will you marry me?"

She tried to restrain herself, but found it impossible. "Yes!" she shouted gleefully. "Yes, Arnold, I will marry you!"

An enormous grin broke across his face, and he gathered her up in his arms. "You've made me the happiest person in the world!" he said. "In fact, the only thing that could make me any happier would be to know that the weather outside is quite chilly today, with lows expected to be in the forties!"

~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Helga snapped awake, sitting upright with a small gasp. 

"And that concludes the weather report!" the voice from her clock radio exclaimed. "In other news, scientists suspect Bubblelicious to be a cure for cancer!" Groaning, she reached over and hit the Snooze button on her alarm clock. 'Why are radio personnel always so freaking cheerful?' she thought angrily. 'Just as my dreams start to get good... And on my birthday, too. You'd think I'd catch a break.' 

She flopped back down onto her bed, squeezing her eyes shut and trying with all her might to get back to sleep so she could finish her dream, but it was no use. She was fully awake.

Helga got up and put on a dress, grabbed her brush and headed to the bathroom to put on her bow. As she brushed her teeth, she mentally prepared for the day ahead. Birthdays were usually ok. Big Bob almost always remembered to call her Helga, and Miriam could be counted on to attempt at baking a cake. She didn't get many presents, but she didn't at Christmas either so it wasn't a big deal. She'd get something good from Phoebe.

Helga left the bathroom and went downstairs for breakfast and what few presents would be waiting on the kitchen table. But when she got there, the table was empty except for a few bowls and some drool. Big Bob was behind his paper and Miriam was snoring, her chin resting on her chest. She awoke with a jerk as Helga walked in. 

"Good morning, dear," she said in her typical sleepy voice as she opened a cabinet door. "Do you want cornflakes or..."

"I'm not hungry." Apparently, Miriam couldn't remember that Helga didn't eat breakfast, and hadn't for two years. Helga inspected all of the counters, looking for her birthday gifts. She didn't see any there, either.

Big Bob rustled his paper as he poked his head around it to look at her. "Don't make any plans after school today, girl."

"I've got a baseball game, Bob." Her voice was filled with contempt. They had forgotten her birthday.

"You'll just have to cancel your game, then, won't you? I'm taking you and Miriam out for dinner tonight. One of those fancy French joints."

Helga's jaw dropped. Her father, the miser... Taking them out for dinner? Spending money? "Why would you do that?" she asked, suddenly suspicious. "Olga's not coming home, is she?"

"Of course not," he snapped at her. "She's in Alaska for another three weeks." 

"Then why..." Helga suddenly grinned. "You remembered! I thought you forgot, but you remembered!" She hugged her dad, the newspaper getting squashed between them.

"Sure I remembered, I'm not an idiot! A Pataki never forgets anything!" Helga just hugged him tighter. "And get off, you're crumpling my paper." 

She released him and hugged her mom, then grabbed her lunchbox from the counter. "I've got to go to school. I'll see you tonight!" And she skipped out of the room without a glance back. 

Bob and Miriam's gazes followed her. "That's a weird kid. Olga was never weird like that." Bob shook his head in disappointment.

"Oh, oh I know, B." Miriam's head drooped onto the tabletop, and her eyes shut.

Bob got up to leave for work, leaving his paper on the table. "I mean, Mother Hubbard, it's just a business dinner." Miriam's snores were his only answer.

  
  


~**~**~**~**~

  
  


Helga found school to be slightly more bearable than usual. Sure, it was still the usual circus of geeks and snobs, but the fact that her parents were taking her for dinner- that they actually cared about her birthday- was enough to put a good spin on anything. Not to mention the fact that Lila was out sick. 

'This is turning out to be one of the best birthdays ever,' Helga reflected as Mr. Simmons finished calling role.

As he started ranting on about some thing or another, Phoebe whispered, "Happy birthday, Helga!" and passed her a plain white envelope with her name on the front. Helga opened it and found two tickets to the upcoming Monster Truck Bash and a short note:

  
  


Dear Helga,

  
  


I hope that you have the wonderful kind of birthday that you deserve. Although there are two tickets, I'd prefer if you asked another acquaintance to attend the event with you.

I'm sorry that I have to depart for Kentucky today, and that I can't spend the day celebrating with you. When I return on Sunday night I'll take you for ice cream, if that's satisfactory to you.

Happy birthday from your dearest friend,

Phoebe

  
  


Helga laughed a little at Phoebe's request, and smiled across the aisle at her. "Thanks a lot, Phoebe. Don't worry, I won't drag you with me."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow at her. "You seem to be in an exceptionally good mood today."

Helga's smile grew wider. "That's because I am, Pheebs. My mom and dad are taking me out to dinner tonight. For my birthday."

"That's great!" Phoebe obviously knew how much it meant to her that Bob and Miriam were paying her some attention. 

'Yeah,' thought Helga as she turned back to the front. 'It is pretty great.'

  
  


~**~**~**~**~

  
  


The last bell finally rang seven hours later. The kids all ran from the room, followed by Mr. Simmons shouting about their homework. Helga paused for a moment on top of the stairs before the sidewalk, adjusting herself to the brisk air that was gusting through the city. She left for home, jogging to keep warm. She turned the corner around the school building and

  
  


WHAM.

  
  


Helga crashed to the ground, books and papers spilling in all directions. She rubbed her forehead, opened her mouth to yell, and looked at the clumsy oaf who'd bumped into her. But it wasn't just any clumsy oaf. It was...

"Arnold!" He looked at her, rubbing his elbow vigorously and wincing. She suddenly remembered her dream, and bit her lip to keep from sighing with happiness.

"Hi, Helga." He gave her a fixed smile, as if preparing for the verbal assault that he always got from her on these occasions. Helga's heart hurt to see it. She took an internal deep breath, and smiled back at him. After all, it was her birthday. And her parents cared. She could afford to be a little generous.

"Sorry... about that."

Arnold's jaw dropped, and Helga was a bit insulted. She could be nice sometimes. She watched as he regained his composure enough to nod his head. "It's, um... That's ok." His eyes narrowed as if he were suspicious of something. "I should have been watching where I was going?" He said it as if it were a fill-in-the-blank, as if he were helping her to remember her lines. 

Anger flared up inside of her, but she held it back. She wasn't about to ruin everything now. She started gathering up her things. Arnold helped, handing her a stack of papers. "Thanks," she said, and hated the weird feeling that always came when she showed gratitude to anyone. 

They stood there for a minute in which Helga enjoyed being close to him and Arnold stared at the sidewalk, the school, the street. "See you later, Football Head" she finally said, moving to the side and taking a few steps away.

"See you." She started on her way home, grinning. "Happy birthday!" he added, and she turned and walked slowly backwards for a few paces.

'I think it is, especially now,' she thought. On the outside she smiled and he grinned back at her, his eyes doing their adorable half-lidded thing they always did. She flipped back forward so he wouldn't see her doofy smile or hear her contented sigh as she walked away towards her house.

'That went very well, if I do say so myself,' she thought proudly.

  
  


~**~**~**~**~

  
  


Quite awhile later, Helga was still smiling. She'd put on the same dress she'd worn when she'd taken Phoebe, Gerald, and Arnold out for dinner, and she was ready to do her hair. She glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes left. When her dad had come home from work, he'd told her to be ready by five. 'And thus begins the epic battle,' she thought, and grimly set to the task of making her hair cooperate.

She had just removed her bow when Bob called out to her from downstairs. "Come here, girl!" She grabbed her brush and worked out a tangle as she descended the stairs.

"What?"

Big Bob was standing in front of a mirror in the hallway, adjusting his tie. "I just want to make sure you're clear on how to behave tonight," he said, never taking his eyes off of his reflection. 

Helga frowned. What did he think she'd do, burp and not say 'excuse me'? If there was anything she'd learned from that mixup at the restaurant last time (besides to always pay attention to minor details like the name of the place), it was how to behave somewhere fancy. "I think I've got it covered."

"Just to be sure. I want everything to be perfect tonight." He gave his tie a final poke, decided it was straight enough, and finally turned in her direction. "No screaming, no hitting, no playing with your food."

As much as she tried to stop it, anger entered Helga's voice. "I'm not five, Bob. I know how to act in public."

He frowned. "Don't call me Bob. Children shouldn't call adults by their first names. Make sure you don't do that either tonight. They're very old fashioned."

Helga gave him a confused look. "Who's old fashioned?"

"Mr. and Mrs. McAllister." He looked at her like she was an idiot. 

She gave her father the same look back. "That's great, I'm happy for them. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Olga, that's why we're going out tonight! I'm taking them for dinner." 

Helga felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. The hairbrush in her hand clattered to the floor, but she didn't bother to pick it up. "You're taking them out for dinner?" she asked, her voice weak. 

"Of course I am!" Bob turned back to the mirror, fiddling with his tie again. "They're very rich people, I'm trying to sell them beepers..."

His voice droned on about how they were very family-oriented, wanted to meet his wife and child... Helga didn't listen. She couldn't hear him over the buzzing in her ears. Beepers. Of course this was about beepers. When did he ever think about anything except beepers? 'When he's thinking about Olga,' she answered herself. 'And that's all. Beepers and Olga.'

The doorbell rang just then, and Bob ran to answer it, muttering about people who came earlier than expected. Helga heard him loud and clear. Seconds before everything had been fuzzy and faded; now, everything was sharp and in focus. Jagged, harsh even. She watched him paste a big phony smile on his face, then open the door and let in two elderly people. 

Mr. and Mrs. McAllister looked friendly enough, but Helga could only look at her father. She'd been so happy today. For one of the first times in her life she'd been willing to think of him as Dad. The man who was supposed to protect her, treat her kindly, and give her his love and affection. She'd been wrong, and now she was paying for her mistake.

Her mother entered from the living room, for once not in her typical stupor. Helga hurt to look at her too. This was the woman who cared more about her blender than her daughter. 

Forgotten in the corner, she watched Miriam shake hands with the McAllisters. Bob turned around and gave her a pointed look that clearly said, 'Be nice to these people, or else.' If it had been a normal day, Helga would have considered it. But this wasn't a normal day. The need for revenge suddenly swooped through the pit of her stomach.

She stood and glared at her father, then turned towards the McAllisters and glared at them. They exchanged looks that seemed confused. Mrs. McAllister smiled and bent down to be at face level with Helga. 

"Hi, I'm Joan. You must be Helga."

"Way to go, Einstein. I'll have them whip up your medal right away." The words rolled effortlessly off of her tongue; after seven years of practice, being mean was easier then being kind.

Her father glared at her for a second, them laughed uncomfortably. "From the mouths of children, right Randy? Heh heh..."

Mr. McAllister smiled a little timidly and nodded in agreement. "What grade of school are you in, Helga?"

"Fourth," Bob said quickly, not giving her a chance to say anything cutting. "Fourth grade. She's nine years old."

"Ah, great age to be. Right, Helga?" Randy said, and they all looked at her as if waiting for her to agree.

Helga barely even heard him, however. She thought to herself how ironic it was that the first time Bob remembered she was nine she wasn't anymore. Helga had planned on making her parents suffer all through dinner but she just couldn't take it. 

The adults were still waiting for her to say something, but instead she pushed through them and bolted out of the door, not caring about the stares she felt at her back. She grabbed her coat from the rack as she ran by. 

She heard Bob yell, "Get your butt back here, girl!" but she didn't pay any attention to him. Helga turned down an alley and climbed over a fence, knowing that if he chased her he'd stop there. She couldn't stand the thought of being near him for another second longer.

Helga ran down the streets, ignoring the looks that people gave her. Her hair, free of its bow, streamed out behind her. She ran until her chest burned, finally stopping and throwing herself onto a bench where she sat bent over, hands on her knees. 

Her hair hung in curtains on either side of her face, and Helga was glad for it. She didn't want anyone she knew to see her crying.

  
  


~**~**~**~**~

  
  


It was a little while later that she was in the park by a pond, idly throwing stones into its depths. *plunk* *plunk* The water rippled and her reflection wavered, and she thought of how nice it would be to be able to just fade out of focus like that, to just go away. Anything to stop this endless parade that was her life; sadness and loneliness, followed by a brief, shining moment of hope, followed again by sadness and loneliness. Helga knew she could handle it if only it wasn't for that bit of faith that she still reached for, even after all the times it had been ripped away. If things were always bad she could adjust. But that constant flux, the loathsome period where she thought things might turn out ok only to have her hopes and dreams destroyed again and again...

Helga blinked hard. The tears she'd just managed to put an end to threatened again. She flopped onto her back and stared up at the dark, threatening clouds overhead. She mentally willed them to rain down, dared the Forces That Be to strike her dead with a bolt of lightning.

The clouds stared back at her, and she thought they seemed rather mocking. In a tree somewhere a bird chirped once, then fell silent.

Helga lay there for a long time, shivering slightly in the chilly wind that blew. Part of her knew that she'd get sick if she stayed there much longer, but most of her didn't give a crap. So what if she got sick? No one cared about her when she was healthy, maybe she'd get some attention sick. 

She sat up again and went back to looking at her reflection. She stared at it until the space behind her eyes started to hurt, wondering what about that person inspired such dislike from her parents. The watery image blurred, and became that of her father, then of her mother. It wavered between the two, and Helga became furious just looking at it. She grabbed up the largest rock she could find and flung it with all her might into the pond. 

The water splashed loudly, ripples covered its surface, and the reflections disappeared. Her anger not yet calmed, Helga dug her fingers into her hair and pressed her face into her knees. "I hate you!" she screamed into her lap, her voice muffled. "Everything wrong about me is because of you!" Her shoulders shook but she did not cry. The emotion she felt inside her soul was too powerful for tears to express. She wanted to fling her body to the ground and kick and stomp and bite, but she knew that throwing a tantrum wouldn't help either. She sat there on the cold ground, hands around her knees and pressing her legs into her chest and waited for the grief to go away. 

~**~**~**~**~

  
  


Helga awoke with a jolt. The sky was much darker than it had been and everything was deeply cloaked in shadows. She was freezing cold, stiff, and her butt hurt from sitting on the uneven ground. She stretched her legs out and winced as she heard her joints crack. She hated the feeling of that.

She stood up and stretched, brushing the dirt off of her dress as best she could. She noticed a bench under a tree and considered spending the night on it, but decided against it as a cold wind blew through the park. Not to mention the fact that she wasn't exactly in the mood to be assaulted. 

She started walking a lap of the park, rubbing her arms to keep warm. She resolved not to go home. No matter how cold it got, she'd stay out all night. But she didn't have a clue as to where. Phoebe was in Kentucky, and there was no one else for her to confide in. 

'Maybe Dr. Bliss...' she thought, and started towards her doctor's house. It wouldn't be the first time Helga had visited, as often as she needed to talk to someone. She followed the wall of the park and rounded the corner to the sidewalk and

  
  


WHAM.

  
  


'Criminey, twice in one day,' she thought as she brushed herself off. Arnold did the same, looking at her warily. He crammed his hands into his pockets, and Helga noted that his face looked troubled and distracted.

"Watch where you're going, Football Head!" she ordered, but her heart wasn't really in it. Arnold picked up on her worse-than-usual mood.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You were happy before."

"Yeah, well, things change." She crossed her arms and glared at him. 

"Bad day?" He looked so genuinely curious that she gave in.

"Not that it's any of your business, Arnoldo... But yeah. It could have been better."

"What happened?" 

She shrugged, trying to seem as if she didn't care. "Bob and Miriam forgot my birthday."

His jaw dropped. "Helga, that's terrible! How could they forget?"

"I don't know, they just did." She shrugged again. "It's not like it's a big deal or anything. I should have been expecting it."

"Why would you expect something like that?" Helga, like usual, was struck by his naivety. 'Poor, do-goody sap,' she thought, loving him even more for it. 

"Because I've got two deadbeats for parents." She scuffed her toe on the sidewalk. "It's always about Olga, beepers, and Miriam's blender. I don't fit in the picture." She spat on the ground. "Not like I want to be a part of that 'family' anyway." 

Arnold looked at her and Helga felt unusually transparent. She wanted to be part of a family more than anything, and had a sneaking suspicion that he knew it. 

"Do you want to walk with me?" he asked, nodding towards the park. "You could tell me all about it."

"What makes you think that you could help me?" The words rolled off her tongue before she had a chance to even think, and she instantly regretted them. 'Please don't get mad and walk away, please...' 

Arnold didn't appear to be fazed in the slightest. "Even if I can't, it won't hurt to try."

Her heart leapt; he still wanted to help her! Outwardly, she struggled to keep calm, and appeared to think it over. "I guess I could go with you," she said finally. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

They walked under the stone arch together, Helga's mind flashing briefly on one of her favorite wedding fantasies. She told him almost everything as they walked laps around the park, circling the lake and dodging around joggers who had braved the cold for the sake of fitness. She left out the part about crying; it was embarrassing, and not vital to the story anyway. She also didn't mention just how hopeless the situation had left her. That was a bit too personal to share, even with him. 

When she finished, they walked in silence for a few yards. "So?" Helga finally asked. "Any words of healing wisdom?"

"Well," he said, stepping over a small pothole in the sidewalk, "the obvious solution is to talk to your parents and tell them how badly it made you feel." Helga started to protest, but he cut her off. "I know you don't want to, and I don't think it would work anyway."

"You got that right, Bucko. Bob never listens, and talking to Miriam is like talking to a tree." 

"Are there any other adults you could talk to?"

Helga thought of Dr. Bliss. "No," she said, reluctant to tell him that she regularly visited a shrink. "It's not that easy. I don't have a houseful of people to get advice from." Arnold frowned and Helga wanted to slap herself. 'Again with the insults,' she thought angrily.

"It's not always so great, you know." He fixed her with a stare that was intense and... something else. Helga couldn't put her finger on it. "The borders are usually terrific, but they fight so much. Sometimes I wish that it could just be me and my grandparents." He smiled a little and said, "Come to think of it, sometimes I wish it could just be me."

He sounded so sincere, and her heart beat painfully for him. "I guess it would be hard to get privacy in a place with so many people."

"A little understated, but yeah." He rubbed his hands together to keep them warm. "It's so cold for March, don't you think?"

Helga nodded, and a thought struck her. "So where were you on your way to before you bumped into me?"

"Nowhere. I was just going to sit in the park for awhile. I had some thinking to do." 

"About what?" she asked, remembering the troubled look on his face when she had first seen him.

"It's not important." He started walking a little faster and bent his head slightly toward the ground. Helga noticed, as she noticed everything about him.

"Are you going to make me have to give your 'It Won't Hurt to Try' spiel?" He didn't say anything. She reached out and grabbed the hood of his jacket, forcing him to stop. "Listen Football Head, either you tell me or I punch your lights out."

This was not the right thing to say. "I can't believe you! I help you with your problems as best as I can, and you threaten to beat me up? What kind of thanks is that?" he asked, fists clenched at his side. Anger blazed in his eyes and Helga took a small step back. It didn't happen often, but when Arnold got angry it scared her. She remembered how horrified she'd been when he'd come to school and shown off his karate moves. He'd had the same look in his eye then as he had now, and she didn't like it at all. 

He must have noticed how she felt, because his face softened and his body relaxed a little. "I'm sorry," he said, looking at the ground again. "I guess I'm pretty high-strung right now."

Helga tried not to let her relief show. "It's ok. I yell enough to deserve some payback," she said, trying to lighten the situation.

However, Arnold's face stayed troubled. "Why is that?" he asked. "I know you think it's a part of who you are, but why do you always yell at me in particular?"

'Because you always forgive me,' she thought immediately, and searched for something that she could say out loud. "Because... um... Hey! This isn't about me, it's about you. Don't try to change the subject." 

He thankfully let the question drop. "Fine, I'll tell you. But you have to swear not to repeat it to anyone. I've never even told Gerald." She nodded, wondering what was so important to him. "No, say it out loud," he commanded. "Say that you swear."

"I swear not to tell. Criminey!"

"Ok..." He took a deep breath and sat down, Helga dropping to the grass beside him. "I'm high-strung because... I got a call yesterday from a man who said he might have found my parents." He looked away and bit his lower lip. 

"What do you mean, found?" she asked. "Aren't they..."

"Aren't they what?"

"I always just assumed that since they weren't around, they were..." She trailed off again, not wanting to use the word 'dead' to describe his parents. "That they were... gone," she finished lamely.

He finally caught her meaning. "No, they're not dead," he said, sounding only half sure of it himself. He told her a brief story about how they were lost on a mission to save some jungle village when he was just a baby. Her heart broke as he finished his tale, wanting to comfort him in some way but not knowing how. "So anyway," he continued, "yesterday I got a phone call from a man my grandparents hired to look for them. He said he had a lead to follow up on and that it looked really promising." His voice began to harden. "He called back today. It wasn't them."

Helga watched as he stared out across the lake. His eyes, usually so familiar to her, had a look to them that she'd never seen before. She'd seen him look defeated, tired, and beaten down, those elements were familiar to her... but she'd never seen him hopeless. She hadn't even thought him capable of it. She felt almost as if a part of herself died with every sidelong glance at those eyes. If Arnold could lose all hope there would be none left for anyone. 

"Arnold, I..." Helga was at a loss for words. What could you say to a story like that? 'I'm sure it'll work out'? 'Cheer up'? Certainly not 'I'm sorry.' 

"We get calls like that every few months or so, and each time I'm so sure it'll be them. But it never is." And now the hopelessness had crept into his voice. 

She couldn't stand it anymore. The need to comfort him won over. She put an arm around his shoulders, not caring what he would think of her or who saw them. He didn't move, but she felt his body relax the slightest bit. 

"One day it will be," she said, putting all the sincerity into it that she could.

"You don't know that." 

"Yes I do." She was surprised to find that she wasn't just saying the words; she truly believed it for him.

"How?" She thought for a long time. It was only one simple word, but so hard to answer.

"Because of you," she said simply. He finally looked at her, and she could see from his eyes that he didn't understand. "I mean that you'll have them back one day because you're you. Because you deserve them."

"I don't des-"

"Yes you do," she said, quietly but firmly. "You deserve everything."

She dropped her arm from his shoulders. They sat in silence for a long time, Helga nervously playing with a piece of grass. "Thank you," he finally said to her, and she was delighted to see that the hopelessness was gone from his eyes. 

"Any time." 

Silence fell between them again, and Helga's wanted so badly to touch him again. She yawned and stretched her arms out and one hand brushed his elbow, sending tingles down to the tips of her toes. 

"Tired?" he asked, and she nodded in response. "It's getting pretty late. We should go."

Disappointment filled her body. "Yeah." She stood up and tried for the second time that day to brush the earth from the back of her dress. She gave up after a few half-hearted swipes. The pair began the walk to the exit of the park.

"So what are you going to do?" Arnold asked her.

"I think I'd like to go home," she said. "Even though I'm positive it won't work I'll still try to talk to them."

"I'm glad." They reached the exit, and with it the sidewalk where they would have to go their separate ways. "I'll see you at school on Monday." He started to walk away, and she cast around in her mind for anything to say that would bring him back. 

"Hey Arnold, wait!" 

He turned to look at her. "What?"

"Why did you tell me, and never anybody else?" she asked, and wondered where the question had even come from.

He shrugged. "I don't know... I don't want them to pity me, I guess. Do you?"

Helga shook her head and looked down at the sidewalk. "I could never," she muttered, and was again grateful that her hair was down; it concealed her ears, and she could tell they were red from blushing. She chanced a glance at him, but he was looking at the cars driving by and she couldn't tell if he'd heard her or not. "Bye, Football Head." 

He suddenly turned to her and said rapidly, "If you ever need a place to stay, there's usually a room open at the boarding house."

Helga's heart soared. "Whatever," she said, shrugging. "Thanks for the offer, Arnoldo." 

But he knew her better than that, and grinned. "Any time," he said, mimicking her words from earlier. Helga rolled her eyes and scowled as if she was offended, and started the walk to her house. She grinned the whole way.

  
  


*****


End file.
